


Things You Don't Know

by prettydeathmachine



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin is a shitty roommate with a lethal secret, Halloween, M/M, Modern AU, Obi-Wan didn't ask for this, but then he never does, kinda college/roommate au, more tags as progresses, obikin, same age au, sorry likely to be smutless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-22 18:10:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12487780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettydeathmachine/pseuds/prettydeathmachine
Summary: Obi-Wan is tired. Anakin is apparently doing something Weird™, weirder than usual. And it's increasingly eerie in their dark apartment. OR the Halloween fic that's both humorous and creepy and probably kinda gross that no one asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I know this is short, but it's supposed to be a set of short pieces over the next few days until...Halloween. O, Ween of the Halls. Which I adore.

Sometimes, Obi-Wan Kenobi wants to just throttle his...roommate? Boyfriend? Friend? He still isn’t entirely sure how he wants to classify the situation, especially to himself, and all and none are applicable. There is no questioning the occasional desire to completely lose his cool, at best knocking the shit out of Anakin Skywalker.

Having known Anakin since they were in the sixth grade together, that isn’t anything new. Anakin can be extremely irritating, to say the least, and often on purpose as if it were compulsory. The vast majority of the time, Obi-Wan can ignore both Anakin’s behavior and his desire to snap at him in some way. Tonight it’s difficult, though. Tonight he’s just come home from an extended shift at work _after_ his classes to see that Anakin has apparently not left the house in the nearly eighteen hours he has been gone. He is exhausted, he is thoroughly done with life, and, as he unlocks the door, his imagination is filled with imagery of one Anakin Skywalker sprawled out across their couch passed out, in his underwear, with potato chip crumbs decorating his chest.

It is a vivid picture because he’s seen it more than once.

Words like _immature_ and _irresponsible_ floated around with the imagery and crossed his lips in a grumble as he stepped inside. However, there was no lanky, mostly naked, snack covered Anakin on the couch. It was dark as hell in the apartment, but not dark enough to hide that. Not when the other man often literally hung off of one end or the other of the couch. Maybe he _did_ leave after all, maybe his car was, yet again, throwing a fit like it’s owner and that’s why it was still in its usual spot. There really wasn’t any other reason he could think of as to why the entire apartment was dark and seemingly devoid of life.

About the time Obi-Wan was turning on a light, the concern set in. Anakin hadn’t texted him about going anywhere or staying late anywhere. In fact, he hadn’t gotten any texts or calls from Anakin in hours. That was odd, Anakin texted over _everything_ all day, every day. Anakin saw a neat leaf? Obi-Wan got a text and a picture. Anakin had about twenty “brilliant” thoughts a day on average, and Obi-Wan got a text about every one of them, in great detail. Anakin also seemed to just know when he was in the least appropriate place possible for assorted varieties of naughty texts and pictures, and sometimes video as well. He’d gotten nothing since before leaving the university hours and hours ago, he’d just been so busy he hadn’t noticed. Now he felt not only concern but also guilt.

  _Shit, what if Anakin left and something happened to him…_

Obi-Wan had begun to truly stress about that possibility, after all, Anakin was both the luckiest and most unlucky person in existence in his opinion. Trouble, sometimes outrageous trouble no one would believe if there were not proof, mishaps, and generalized bullshit just happened to and immediately around Anakin. He’d always attracted it like a magnet. If a bus caught on fire Anakin was in it. If the roof caved in, Anakin would be a few inches from the debris. Anakin had actually been _accidentally_ stabbed, not once but twice. Stabbed. By a knife. Twice. By accident. But, that was where the weird luck came in because Anakin was also never actually hurt all that badly, if at all. Somehow, he always managed to benefit from it in some way as well. The time the tire came off of a passing car and hit Anakin? He ended up with enough money to purchase that damned car of his, secure this very apartment for them, and buy furniture...which was Obi-Wan’s idea. That did not account for the truly unnecessary items and copious amounts of food Anakin had also bought.

It was both fascinating and, every once in awhile, frustrating how the universe itself seemed to love Anakin. Though, there _had_ been exceptions...ones he wasn’t going to think on right now. It was possible that he’d attracted some outrageous disaster and didn’t come out of it so well this time. Obi-Wan’s stomach lurched, in his exhaustion, he had begun imagining myriad gruesome things having happened to him.

Until he noticed Anakin’s door happened to be shut, a very small amount of light coming from beneath it. Anakin was rarely in his room. If he was at home and inside, he was in the living room, wherever Obi-Wan was, or in Obi-Wan’s bed. Specifically, as he claimed it smelled like Obi-Wan and was more comfortable. Anakin’s room hadn’t been used as an actual bedroom in...well, it hadn’t, ever. It was largely a mess comprised of what Obi-Wan called Anakin Organization; there were parts of a million things he was working on in there and Anakin wasn’t bullshitting when he claimed indignantly to have “a system”. He legitimately did know where everything was in there, Obi-Wan had seen this in action.

Without even willing himself to do so, Obi-Wan had ended up at the closed door. Worried, relieved, and annoyed all at once but expressing none of it, he simply listened. Because, unless it was something likely to be particularly loud or annoying, that door didn’t close while he was working. The complete lack of sound behind the door made it further odd, Anakin wasn’t working on something. It didn’t sound like he was even _in_ the room. Perhaps it was all this oddness combined with the tiredness that suddenly made a chill run through Obi-Wan, that made him realize he felt unreasonably afraid. The sort of fear that told you things you shouldn’t ignore, like _back away and leave this be._

 


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-Wan did not back away and leave it be. How could he? That didn’t make it easy to continue standing there, feeling the increasingly oppressive fear. Feeling as though his soul itself was being packed in ice and that something was absolutely creeping up behind him, did not make it easy to speak with a normal tone.

“Anakin?” he asked, his voice quiet yet seeming to crack the silence in the house. He really wanted to be proud of keeping it from stuttering or anything equally ridiculous and embarrassing, but couldn’t. Now he’d broken the silence. It felt like he’d turned a thousand eyes to him instead of just one menacing set.

There was no reply from Anakin, not for a long moment that seemed an eternity. In that moment, there was, finally, a sound; the faintest movement of Anakin’s squeaky, old bed. Typically, Obi-Wan might have thought of how ridiculous it was that he refused to be rid of the thing when he was never in it anyway, but presently he was only torn between relief at the sign of life and concern at the lack of an answer. Sometimes, Anakin slept very, very hard, though. It could be a bit distressing when he simply would not wake up, when he only made small sounds and mumbled too lowly to be understood, while attempting to bury himself under Obi-Wan. Well, it was cute at first, but after fifteen minutes of effort when he continued in this way it became otherwise.

Then there were the times when it was worse, when it was a bit...creepy. Thankfully, those were rare, but when they occurred, he seemed both awake and asleep simultaneously. His eyes would open slowly, like a cat or a dog too deeply asleep to be completely awakened by some small noise, and he would look right at Obi-Wan, right _through_ Obi-Wan. It was like he was checking things in the immediate vicinity for a moment, then his eyes would close once more. All without any other movement, not even a change in breathing. Weirder still, he was actually seeing things and processing them on some level. If something was out of place, Obi-Wan having gotten up to make a quiet, sneaky exit for even a moment being the usual reason, he would snap right into being very awake and alert. Obi-Wan had to assume this was some form of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Yeah, that was probably it. Anakin was just in one of his weird Anakin Comas, that was all. Disturbing as they could be, that was a lot better than several other alternatives. There was, of course, only one way to be sure of that...so, why did his hand hesitate by the chipped, glass doorknob?

 _This is fucking stu_ pid, he thought with a sigh at himself, fingers closing over the cold surface of the 1920’s leftover.

“ **NO** ,” Anakin’s voice erupted from the room, so loud and forceful and with such absolute command that it seemed to reverberate in Obi-Wan’s head. In the seconds he remained stunned, Anakin more normally added, “I’m fine, I just need to be alone right now. Leave me alone. Please, leave me alone. Go away.”

Obi-Wan’s fear and worry dissolved into an intense anger. It was too late for this shit, he was too tired for this shit, and after all of his sickening dread over what Anakin’s ass had done now, that was the response he got? He was especially glad, in the back of his mind, that he did not stop for those disgusting, cheap french fries the asshole just loved.

He almost mentioned it too, as he yelled at the door, “What the fuck, Anakin? What is wrong with you? Do you even have any idea...you know what, it doesn’t matter. Fuck you. Actually, no, don’t fuck you, ever.”

Turning to storm away from the now offensive by association door, he stopped. That was extremely immature of him, for one thing, for another, he was not about to do what Anakin told him to. Just why did he want to be alone so damn badly? Just what was he doing in there? He did have a history of getting into bad things when alone. It had been years, but he’d hurt himself before. It had been a few less years, but he also had decided he really liked certain pills a lot there for a while.

No, if for no other reason, he had to open that door. A door he knew did not lock, like any of the doors in the old house save for the front and back, presumably because they had to in order to pass inspection. That often led to Anakin popping up and hanging out in the bathroom while he was in the shower, if he didn’t just pop up in the shower. Most of the time, that was alright, but sometimes one just needed a few minutes. At the moment, he was unquestionably thankful for the dysfunctional doors.

“Obi-Wan, don’t! I’m fucking serious!”

Again, Anakin’s voice seemed to rock reality in some weird way Obi-Wan couldn’t quite put his finger on. This time, however, it was full of fear and only made him turn the doorknob and push the door open more quickly.

Nothing, nothing on Earth could have prepared him for what he saw on Anakin’s bed. Maybe horror movies, but those were movies. Those were fiction. This was reality. In reality, you didn’t open a door and see a giant animal where you should be seeing your giant...boyfriend, alright he was going to accept that now. Everything in all of life was infinitely easier right now.

As Obi-Wan stood there in the doorway, face blank with shock, other than his impossibly widened eyes and slightly opened mouth, a string of fuck fuck fuck came from the animal. Only, it didn’t. The wolf, that’s absolutely what it was, wasn’t literally speaking, its mouth didn’t move other than a brief, neurotic bit of lip licking. Suddenly, it made sense why Anakin’s voice seemed so loud, unreal, in his head. It was in his head, directly in his mind. Which, of course, meant that the mass of grey, black, white, and decidedly blonde fur on the bed was...Anakin.

That was impossible to process, and he did and did not understand what Anakin was now saying, communicating, hell he didn’t know anymore what to call that.

“I asked you not to, damn it, shit-fuck,” came Anakin’s voice, which was at least reassuring to some degree as he was cursing enough to be Anakin. The thing, wolf, Anakin, repeated the agitated licking again as he continued, “Look, I know this is...really, reeeeally some crazy shit, but just, like, stay chill, okay?”

“S-stay...chill, Anakin? Anakin?” Obi-Wan heard his voice coming out small, and foolishly wondered for a second if he’d even be heard. Of course he would be, he distantly wondered what Anakin couldn’t hear with those ears. _My, what big ears you have_...he thought deliriously, followed by an equally delirious little giggle. He was going mad, maybe he already had. That was a far more logical explanation.

Apparently, Anakin didn’t need verbal speech to overhear. For the first time, Anakin looked directly at him, “That is not funny.”

“I’m crazy, I’m having a delusion,” Obi-Wan muttered, a touch of the I’ve-Lost-My-Mind giggle still in his voice.

“You’re not, it’s real...but, seriously, don’t do anything weird. Um, don’t...don’t move quickly.”

 _Don’t move quickly?_ Obi-Wan felt like his feet were bolted to the floor. At least, until that moment, when the word “move” in his head made him realize that, yes, moving was something he could do. Maybe something should do, actually. Because, if the big predatory animal on the bed that may or may not be Anakin but surely sounded like it in his head, didn’t want him to move quickly that meant it was probably triggered by movement. If it was triggered by movement, it saw him as prey, it was dangerous. As far as he knew, wolves, no matter their size, weren’t adept at turning doorknobs, though.

He’d just very slowly take hold of the door again, very quickly pull it shut. Then, he could go sit down, have a drink, and reassess everything that had ever happened in his entire life. Maybe call Animal Control. Maybe call Quinlan to take him to a hospital. Definitely, call Quinlan to take him to the hospital, he didn’t even care if he had to suffer through the affectionately obnoxious commentary on the way to commit himself.

“No, no, no, Obi, no, don’t,” Anakin started immediately upon Obi-Wan slowly grasping the doorknob, and it was absolute panic in his voice now. Even while he was moving, standing up on the bed with all of those sharp features pointed at Obi-Wan like a furry missile about to deploy.

“No, no, no, _nonononono_ -”

The furry missile deployed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doors are inconvenient when one doesn't have opposable thumbs, everything screams if you bite and shake it enough, and it must be true love if your significant other doesn't rip your face off.
> 
> \---------------------------------------------------------

He didn’t want to chase Obi-Wan.

He wanted to chase Obi-Wan so badly that it wasn’t a matter of wanting or conscious choice.

_Chase him and catch him, and bite and shake and he’ll make noises._

Anakin knew he would, in fact, make noises. Everything did, after a point. It was beyond simply irrelevant that he was fully intending to tear _Obi-Wan_ to literal pieces, he wasn’t Obi-Wan anymore. He wasn’t someone that Anakin had known since he was twelve, someone who had been his best friend in the decade between then and now, someone he absolutely, beyond reason adored. Truly, Anakin remained positively besotted with him even while he was doing those peculiar, Important to Obi-Wan, things. Rather, when he was annoyed with him for his habitual forgetting of those things, the lesser of them anyway. It would forever be a mystery to Anakin just why it was _so_ important that the sock made it into the laundry basket, or why it was not always appropriate to pop up in the shower, _or_ this insistence that side dishes were still not main dishes if in sufficient quantity, for example.

Obi-Wan was not the person who kept trying to stop him from eating his weight in french fries or the person who had slapped him with a giant, dirty sock last week in a moment of affectionate annoyance. Because Obi-Wan wasn’t a person, he was reduced entirely to motion and the scent of fear.

And, _fuck, that was a good smell._

He closed the short distance between the center of the bed and the doorway before the door could close, of course, it hadn’t taken much effort. That damn thing he was after did manage to slam it into his head, however. For a moment they were locked in a ridiculous, precarious tug of war of sorts. Obi-Wan pulling at the door as hard as he could, Anakin trying to push through the rest of the way. The more Anakin’s giant, shaggy head tried to push through, the more the door tried to close on him. The concept of simply backing up was not one that occurred to him, caught up in the moment as he was.

In his frustration, he began snapping wildly at anything and everything and nothing. The unfortunate doorway ended up being the primary victim of his assault, once landing a bite at the door frame he couldn’t seem to stop it. Had it been new, and consequently made of plywood or a even cheaper substitute, he doubtless would have ripped it apart in seconds and provided himself with a few more precious inches to attempt shoving through. It wasn’t, and though the old wood splintered and protested, cutting up Anakin’s face and mouth no less, it didn’t give quite enough. Still, he was apparently satisfied with destroying _something_...until Obi-Wan tried to kick his head back enough to close the door.

The sole of Obi-Wan’s shoe hit Anakin, still in motion attacking the door frame, right where his lower jaw connected to his skull. Hard. Hard enough to thoroughly get his attention right back to Obi-Wan, who was yelling something. All Anakin processed of the yelling were very distant bits of familiarity and that he _was_ yelling. Well, that was certainly exciting.

Not as exciting as latching onto the sole of the shoe that had connected with his head. That really produced some excellent noises, and struggling as well! His teeth squeaked against the rubber sole as they lost their purchase, far too quickly in Anakin’s opinion. Too slick, too much kicking and flailing to hold onto something with so little purchase. The pant leg he got a hold of was much better, until it ripped off in his mouth. When it did, Obi-Wan was forced to let go of the door, hitting the floor and coming off of it to make another mad dash with the sort of quickness and agility that only came from a life or death panic.

For a moment, Anakin simply kept trying to force himself through the door, unsuccessfully, before managing to make it rebound off of himself enough to get through. He’d wandered around the house like this before, but he’d never _chased_ anything through the house. The sudden skidding and sliding sideways across the hardwood floor was a bit surprising, though definitely not enough to put him off his mission.

He couldn’t see his quarry any longer, but that was hardly a hindrance. The smell of fear and anger was like a rope pulling him along, seconds behind, and the living energy of Obi-Wan was like a supernova in the kitchen. He couldn’t have missed that if he wanted to.

Obi-Wan had always been like that to a degree. Always impossible for him to miss or ignore, and quite often it had been in that way; as though he were a literal beacon. Everyone felt different, but Obi-Wan felt unique in a way that no one else did. It was in awkwardly trying to discuss that with him that Anakin had realized other people experienced the entire world in a vastly different way than himself.

Anakin had asked Obi-Wan what _he_ felt like, and then had to attempt to explain what the hell he was talking about. They hadn’t been friends very long, certainly not long enough for Anakin to get away with being Grade A Weird. He assumed pretty quickly that he’d just managed to freak out another friend, and was trying to feel slightly better about it because it had taken a couple of months and hadn’t happened either of the two times Anakin had outright punched someone in the face, when Obi-Wan had spoken again.

It hadn’t been to excuse himself and vanish, or anything shitty. “Well, are you going to tell me?” he’d asked, gently feigning impatience. Anakin hadn’t been sure how to describe it, it was like trying to tell someone who had been born blind what living visually was like. It wasn’t just a feeling, it was full of sensory things and associations that he had a difficult time separating anyway, and he’d been made aware _that_ was abnormal as well.

 _Like everything good,_ he’d wanted to say, but that seemed weird. “Um, you know how when it’s first summer and it’s warm but like, not hot and shit yet, and it’s just...good? Kind of like that,” he had said instead. That wasn’t inaccurate, but it was heavily abbreviated. Warm and bright, but pleasantly so, extremely alive, but calm, and the deepest, richest blending of blue and green.

Even then, Anakin had been certain that he could have found Obi-Wan anywhere, in any circumstance.

And, he had presently found him in their kitchen and wasn’t entirely sure why that felt so confusing for a moment, let alone why they had both just landed on the floor. The last few minutes came rolling back as he realized he was pinning Obi-Wan to the floor; he hadn’t been looking for Obi-Wan, he’d been _chasing_ him. There was a very big difference between those two actions. When you were looking for someone, you found them or you didn’t. When you were chasing someone...you caught them. Presumably, most people didn’t end up catching their significant other in this manner, though. They didn’t end up pressing them into the cheap tile floor with blunt canine claws, a few inches and seconds from literally ripping their face off.

That was exactly how it was, and speechless, literal as it may be, wasn’t sufficiently descriptive of how Anakin felt. It was horrifying and sickening, that was literal as well. He didn’t think that throwing up on Obi-Wan was a particularly good way to apologize, though the compulsive, low whining and licking at his face probably wasn’t a great way to go either.

Getting off of him, that _was_ a good idea. Being excessively careful about doing so while still trying to doing it quickly must not have been so brilliant, because he found himself slipping about again. This was ridiculous, they really needed some more fucking rugs, just as he’d been grumbling about for the last few months when it was cold. Anakin almost said it too, this completely inappropriate, damn near delirious sort of thought before he realized why that hideous, pale tile floor was so slick.

“Oh, fuck, _fuck_ ,” he’d started, slipping about further in the growing pool of blood in a panic, eyes frantically searching Obi-Wan for exactly what he’d done. Obi-Wan was deathly pale, definitely looked like he was in shock, but his shirt wasn’t even torn where the most dramatic accumulation of blood was.

Anakin heard himself making odd little sounds of distress, knew something was off with all of this in the part of his mind that was not panicking over having not just scared and hurt Obi-Wan but probably killed him, but it was all so irrelevant. Because _he had probably just killed Obi-Wan_ and that was not something he could process on any level. Much like the legitimately animal sounds of agonized panic, he heard that he was communicating with Obi-Wan again, but it didn’t feel like reality.

He’d been asking Obi-Wan what he’d done, where he was hurt, interjected continually by apologies, when he was interrupted. Obi-Wan was slowly sitting up, eyes so wide that it looked painful, his voice almost a whisper, “It isn’t me, Anakin…”

 _Oh_. Well...that at least made a lot more sense. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took longer for this installment! Complications, you know. To get it up faster (hah) I didn't edit it very heavily, so apologies for anything weird too.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for the kudos and comments!


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